As I entered the kitchen at 3: 45 AM today I noted that our cat guest Mr. Chance was laying by his latest mouse kill. That makes seven that I know about since he came to live with us last Thanksgiving. Mr. Chance is a clean killer, the dead mice usually not having a mark upon them. I have upgraded him from companion cat to worker cat who is earning his keep. He has white and gray markings in a Butler pattern with white mittens. A cat of much dignity, a cat’s cat. He spends most of his time stalking areas of suspected mice. His usual hunting ground is the kitchen. I tell him he is a good mouser and he is always on the clock.
I’ve had cats who were excellent hunters, and cats that appeared to be completely uninterested.
But one cat, a gray tabby I named Milton, stood out from the others. Like your Mr. Chance, Don, Milton was a cat’s cat and very much in touch with his predator instincts.
My property backs up onto a creek that gave Milton ample hunting opportunities. But sometimes Milton would bring his work home with him. Occasionally I would be in the kitchen and Milton would let himself in via the cat door, holding a live rat in his mouth. Once he had my attention, he would release the creature, let try to run, recapture it, and with a jerk of his neck toss it into the air to land hard on the kitchen floor and repeat the process until the miserable rat was finally dead. The procedure usually took 10-15 minutes, and once the prey had been killed Milton lost interest and left the trophy— and the cleanup — to me.
I looked into the reasons why my cat would be behaving like that, killing in front of me, and it turns out Milton was trying to teach me how to make a kill. Repulsive as the lessons were, I never had the heart to discourage them, coming as they did from a feline’s desire that I never starve. Milton’s trust, affection and protective concern was ample compensation for the bother of occasionally having to disinfect the kitchen floor.
Cats aren’t people, and their instincts are very different from ours; but their affection—when granted—is real. Just be prepared for them to demonstrate it in baffling ways…
Domestic cats and dogs are all descended from wild animals that became human companions about the time of Cro-Magnon humans. They have obviously retained some wild habits, depending on the breed and training, to a greater or lesser degree. Apparently a bit like some individual humans also.
My female cat is excellent at hunting catnip mousies and always brings them around with much ear-splitting fan fare. Our male cat makes an excellent lap warmer.
Best cat we ever had was a stray that stayed. Never caught her playing with food, she was always swift and precise, killing as fast as possible. We found mice, rabbits, frogs, birds, lizards, fish, snakes and probably more I’m forgetting around our garage over the years she stayed.
Funnily enough, got along well with out dog. Even birthed a litter of kittens in the dog’s house one.
A good cat she was. A good farm cat. The kind you say, “she should be allowed a stay in our heavenly abode for a job well done.”
Good working cats are a treasure.
I’m fascinated to know how your daughter persuaded you to allow a cat in your home.
We would have a cat except 14-year-old Buddy dog couldn’t stand it – seizures and arthritis.
Our former neighbor would keep her detached garage door ajar and feed vagabond cats. Once or twice a year they would reward her with a litter. We adopted two when the boys were younger, had them fixed and kept them indoors. Never saw a rodent which was the opposite sans felines.
Plus cats don’t bother me and I don’t bother them. Except the litter box needs empty periodically. Feed and water are easy duty.
Years ago, one evening a mouse was in the kitchen and I would try to zap him with a broom. After a half dozen attempt, I baited a snap tray and put it along a wall. Five minutes later Mickey was KIA. Now I have traps and maybe get a kill once in six months.
Our cat, Sarah, adopted me.
We lost Adrian at 23 years old. The vet. said that she knew of one that made it to 25.
Anyway, it was time for a new friend.
At the animal rescue there was a cat section. Cages of three high by five long. The staff member asked us to look at Sarah. She was 14 months old and noisy. She was in a cage on the top row. When the employee opened the cage Sarah leaped upon my shoulder. I started to pet her and that was it! The employee and my wife both shook their heads and said that they have never seen a cat warm up to a stranger that fast. My reply was that Sarah was desperate. Had to roll the dice since she was getting tired of being in that cage.
She’s 14 now.
Slams her body against mine and is not interested in mousing at all. She did catch a morning dove..had it’s head in her mouth, wings stretched out, as she made her way to our deck to offer her prize to us. Let it go we yelled and she opened her mouth and the bird flew off. Cat’s are great Joy.
Mother-in-law’s cat. At 90 she had pneumonia last fall and it was touch and go for a while. Mr. Chance had to be rehomed, as her doctors thought that cat fur and dander was not good for her breathing. Mr. Chance was familiar with us and our dog due to our annual visits so we were the logical choice for a new home.
I love cats—most of the time. In one of the classes I have taken with our state game & fish organization, we were taught that domesticated cats kill 10 million wild birds a year. They are professional predators.
We have a clowder outside that started w what the kids told me was a male. They names him Earl. Well, Earl had litters and since Covid shut the spay and neuter clinic down, they grew!
I did finally get 14 spayed when they opened back up.
I love them. I have not seen a snake in I don’t know how long (important to me) because they eat all mice, voles, moles, frogs etc.
My aunt had a poodle and she complained at all the mice (really rats) in house and told her she was going to exchange her for a cat. When she got home she had killed 5 rats and line them up on her couch!
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Cats indeed are amazing.
In northern Utah, it being rural, with vast acres of alfalfa fields and bovine animals, cats are an essential; but they are generally kept outside as farm cats. The locals informed me that they watch for them, capture the yearlings annually, take them to the vet, give them shots, deworm them; and after their first litter, they neuter the females, and then release them. The farm cats only live about three or four years due to the harsh winters here,
However, in appreciation, we like others have taken to setting up sheltered feeding stations outside the house and the hardy creatures more thsn reward us by killing the otherwise vast number of rodents. Also, most birds here are overpopulated and a nuisance: go get ‘em, Tiger. In fact, since we adopted two farm cats, we have had no mice in the garage nor outbuildings at all: an enormous payoff for creatures that just want to be left alone to patrol and hunt.
I have always found cats, interesting, though, not interested in owning one. I have a newfound respect for cats.